Dear Kids,

A lot has gone down over the past few months, huh?  You packed and repacked bags, crated your bikes and baby dolls, and sold whatever was left.  You said goodbye to that backyard fort you worked so hard to construct, to the school that was such a great fit for our family, to a life that seemed to work just fine.  You said goodbye to consistency.  To “normal.”  To dance.  To the only church you’ve ever known.  To our dog.  Oh my word, our dog.  You have done some really hard things, kids.

I’m so, so proud of you.

But let me shoot straight with you for a second, okay?

Things are about to get even more crazy.

I know.

In just a few months, you’ll board a plane here in America only to land on African soil with all of its foreign smells and language and customs and just about everything.  And there you’ll stand, a stranger in a foreign land, expected to assimilate and adjust and find home in all of the strangeness.

In just a few months, junk is about to get real.  FAST.  And, if I’m straight up with you, I have no clue how all of this is going to go down.  How will your first day of school go?  How will that first holiday away from cousins and grandparents and normal be?  Will we catch on to the language?  There’s no telling.

But here’s the thing, you guys.  I know life seems to be shifting in seismic ways right now- and I recognize that it can be alarming that your parents don’t have all of the answers (SHOCKING, I know)- but in this season of unknowns and drastic change and more-questions-than-answers, I want to assure you of a few things that I know for sure and forever.

1. You’re not God’s ultimate gift to this world.

People are people.  And kids are kids.  Sin is sin.  And we all need rescuing.  Including you.

We do not love others- and we will not serve and love our Malawian neighbors and friends- from a pedestal.  We’re not moving halfway across the world to swoop in as Americans who know better.  No, guys.  We’re going to link arms with our brothers and sisters in Malawi.  To learn from them.  To be the church.  Together.

There is no us versus them.  There’s just a we.  A “we” who might do things differently at times.  Who might speak different dialects and who might prefer varying cuisines.  Who might do school and sports and free-time differently.  But nonetheless, a humanity-wide “we” navigating this broken world together.

So, open your eyes wide, kids.  There’s a beautiful and messy world out there waiting for you. A world filled with people who are more like you than different.  So, love big.  Serve extravagantly.  And as you do so, just remember that you’re not God’s greatest gift to this world.  Jesus is.

2. God’s presence will always go with you.

Jen Wilkin aptly says, “When we trust [God] as fully present everywhere, we are finally free to be fully present wherever he has placed us.”

You guys, there will surely be times when life just kind of stinks.  You might be lonely.  Afraid.  Sad.  You might feel like throwing a fit and slamming every door and screaming, “How and why did I end up here?”

And that’s okay.  You can feel these things and have these days and still know that God is right there with you in the mess.  You will never, ever be alone.

You can go in confidence because God himself goes with you.  You can do hard things- things like moving and selling and saying endless goodbyes- because God is with you.  And when you walk into that new school in a new country for the very first time, you can walk in knowing that he is right there with you.  WITHIN you.  Comforting you.  Guiding you.  Strengthening you.

Kids, you have been jostled around enough to make anyone dizzy over the past few months, and honestly?  The jostling is only about to pick up more speed.  But I pray- man I pray- that God’s constant presence and unshifting goodness can provide the stability that your dad and I can’t promise right now.  We can be fully present anywhere he places us because he is always and forever fully present with us.

3. God’s glory is always worth it.

If I sit down and think about it, I could come up with one heck of a laundry list of reasons why we shouldn’t pick up and move to Africa.  Kids, I know you could too.  I’ve heard plenty of them already anywhere.

But pitted against a thousand and more reasons not to go, declaring and spreading God’s glory is going to win out every. single. time.

If we believe- like REALLY BELIEVE- that “from him and to him and through him are all things.  To him be glory forever” (Romans 11:36), we’ve gotta live like it.  We have to live like “all things” means all things.  And when things that fall under this umbrella of “all things” happen- language faux pas, difficult relationships, lonely holidays- we can remember that he’s in complete control, and his ultimate aim is to be worshipped.  For his name to be made great.

Ultimately, he’s going to get his glory, guys.  There WILL be a day every nation, tribe, and tongue is around his throne worshipping.  The cool thing is that he lets us be part of this.  And man is he is worth it.

4. You are not mine.

Alright, you guys.  This one is harder for me than you.  Here we go:

Carson, Mary Grace, and Elizabeth- ultimately, you are not mine.  You’re not mine to have and hold and keep forever.  You’re not mine to coddle and place in an iron fortress of protection.  You are gifts- some of the greatest, most precious gifts imaginable- given by God above.

A while back, our pastor, JD, got all up in my business when he said, “When God designs a child to be shot out like an arrow—and instead we treat that child like a piece of furniture that we plan to keep in the house—we not only stunt their development, we also discourage them from finding God altogether. In protecting them from all of life’s challenges, we show them a picture of our faith that is dismally boring. And where your depiction of faith is boring, they will drift toward more interesting things.”

You guys, there is nothing- not one single thing- that is more exciting than following God.  Hear me, though- exciting does not always mean safe.  It certainly doesn’t always translate to comfortable or easy, and as a mama, this is sometimes difficult for me to stomach.  But, at the end of the day, God created you for to be shot out as arrows into this broken world.  I love you something fierce, but God’s love is unimaginably fiercer.  You’re some of my greatest earthly blessings, but earth is not your home.  Heaven is.

So, dear kids, this is all exciting and challenging and beyond anything any of us are capable of.  YOU DON’T GOT THIS.  Nor do I.  Be encouraged.

I love you guys.  Let’s do this.